


I was the One Who Needed Saving

by ICouldntThinkOfAUsername



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blackmail, Coping, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Fade to Black, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Trauma, Violent Sex, mob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27582034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ICouldntThinkOfAUsername/pseuds/ICouldntThinkOfAUsername
Summary: Alphinaud’s head was pounding, the room was spinning but there wasn’t a soul in sight. Had he simply had a bad dream? He had no awareness of the day or the time, the room he was in only illuminated by torchlight. He realized with terror that he was cold, his naked body pressed against the cold floor. Figuring he should do something, he tentatively attempted to sit up and immediately regretted the decision as his head screamed at him and nausea took over. He felt sticky, and, when he picked at his skin, dried remains clung underneath his nails and his mind blanked out, the room transforming before him.A strong hurt account about the Crystal Brave's betrayal in Ul'Dah and the toll it took. Please look at the tags before reading.
Relationships: Crystal Braves/Alphinaud Leveilluer, Minor Alphinaud Leveilluer/Warrior of Light
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	I was the One Who Needed Saving

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE PLEASE read the tags in advance. Thanks. Start playing Final Fantasy XIV and this is the first thing I put out lmao. Brave of you to assume I edit something like this.

There was something about the sunsets of Thanalan. The sun caressed the sands and bathed the dunes in liquid gold… apt considering the prosperity of her capital city. Even outside of her arms though, Central Thanalan was filled to the brim with vibrance of all kinds. 

Alphinaud considered this a double-edged sword as the carriage carried him back to Ul’dah once again, as, even while mounted, merchants tried to haggle off their rugs on him: shoddy examples of the artform that paled in comparison to what the city had to offer, accompanied by the museums of royal carpets of old. 

Still, despite his mild irritation and lack of understanding for a culture that relied so heavily on the merchant and ripping off one’s fell man, Alphinaud couldn’t help but feel ever joyous. It would be horribly uncouth to consider himself responsible for the banquet at Hustings Strip, but he couldn’t help but feel the excitement to  _ subtly  _ express the “I told you so’s” he so wished to tell the leaders of the Alliance. Coerthas was essential to Eorzea and through him and the Warrior of Light, Ser Aymeric had taken a strong liking to them. The future could not be any brighter.

Though, chalking it up to only him and the Warrior of Light would be foolhardy. His Crystal Braves were already in the capital after aiding in the Central Highlands of Coerthas, having taken initiative to ensure the banquet itself was safe. He knew that, in the end, they needed more forces like the Crystal Braves. Their lack of selfishness in terms of national affairs exemplified their ability to be trusted with sensitive affairs. Reintroducing Coerthas back into the fold of the Eorzean Alliance would only further highlight that point. With borders still closed, there was still much work to do to restore trust in Ishgard on the Alliance side and to convince Ishgard that the united front would help them stand against not only the Primals and the Adrestian Empire, but also would help them deal with their own war. 

And at the front of things, there would be him. He may still be young, but sitting at the same table as national leaders and speaking to them as an equal helped him come out of his grandfather’s shadow.

_ He just hoped that he was giving him support far beyond the grave. I know now why you wanted to protect this place. _

Once again, he looked out over the vast expanse of desert: the city looming ahead of them and reaching up into the sky. He looked to his side on reflex, starting to speak on the architecture of Ul’dah before remembering that he once again, had gone back alone. The scions would be arriving later as would the Warrior of Light. He felt lonely? Was that the feeling deep in his chest? He had been fine with being independent and expected to be so. Political affairs were messy and he wanted to remain as objective as possible, but his heart swelled when he thought of the Scions as people, this time, and not just an institution.

It was the same joy he felt looking upon the Doman children watching the Warrior of Light and fellow Scions fight for show. To see the smiles on their faces reminded him of a simpler time even within his own life and the joy of the possibility to make a difference, to be a hero, and to step up against all the hardships and expectations thrust upon you.

For all his sentimentality, he still didn’t put much weight in gods. Too many primals worshipped helped to ruin that. However, he had learned so much by being able to understand beliefs and desires… those selfish things he wanted to be above. 

As of yet, he didn’t want to voice those ideas aloud to many. He would have to take Minfilia and the Warrior of Light aside after the banquet to thank them privately where he would no longer have to wear his strictly diplomatic persona. He still had too much to prove before he could allow himself even a shred of vulnerability. An outsider had so many barriers to overcome. 

The cart pulled to a stop, allowing the Chocobos to eat and he looked over the side, impatient to get to the city. 

“Hey, my lady.” A grizzled man approached the cart, Alphinaud looking around to see who he was talking to. “Where are ya headed? Why don’t you and me go get a drink, beautiful?” Ah.  _ Ah.  _

Yet another reason that he needed to stay on top of everything as he cleared his throat and muttered an “ _ excuse me?” _ before the brigand got the hint and cursed at him for lying to him or something. That was fine with him. 

The cart drive still apologized for Thanalan’s nature, but it was something he was well familiar with at that point at least. At least now his magnum opus in diplomacy would be well-regarded and his name known among Eorzea. It would be at that point that no other would ever mistake him for a girl or, dread him to say,  _ his own sister. _

Left only with his wounded pride and his arms crossed, the cart driver pulled to the central entrance of Ul’Dah proper and waved him goodbye, allowing him time to brush off the dust from his legs before he headed into the markets to make himself as presentable as possible. Arriving early meant preparations could be made and that he could stop and salute the Crystal Braves that remained in the city, their smiles ever bright as they must too understand the significance of their work.

The presence of Crystal Braves remained for the entire duration of his trip to Hustings Strip. Not a soul was slacking off and all were attentive. Sure, they had their fair share of misfits, but Alphinaud couldn’t be happier with the group they had managed to obtain, being properly escorted into the banquet hall at the palace with almost no delay. Alliance leaders were already present as were the Coerthas representatives. 

He found himself flitting from person to person, talking at length about their victory at the Steps of Faith and about the new future alliance, plastering a smile on and only muttering his grievances in private. He had taken to eating something to calm his nerves by the time that the Scions had actually arrived, the banquet table full of delicacies from all over the realm, but still, he only partook in what he could eat in moderation. Fresh pomegranate seeds and figs were easy to grab between conversations, and various pickled delicacies helped him as he walked between tables. 

“Events such as these should have proper waiters delivering bite-sized portions so the food doesn’t take away from the negotiations.” He ended up speaking to the Warrior of Light, their demeanor quiet as he smiled at him and it caused him to clear his throat, a not so graceful attempt to maintain face as he struggled to dispose of the olive pit without just setting it back on the table. 

Well, that was hardly his best etiquette, but as the Y’shtola joined him, she smiled and discreetly offered her hand, Alphinaud avoiding all eye contact as she pocketed it and just prayed that no one was looking as Ser Aymeric and his company approached him, offering a polite bow that he returned. 

“We appreciate what the Scions have done for Coerthas.” Aymeric’s smile was devoid of any ulterior motives from Alphinaud’s perception, and he felt his shoulders relax. 

“I am equally glad what  _ we Scions _ have managed to do to aid our sister nation. I hope that the Alliance will see more potential in our neighbours’ to the North in the future.” 

Aymeric kept his serene appearance, reaching for a glass of wine and having only a sip before he put it down. If he was trying to make himself more approachable, it was certainly working as Aymeric’s enjoyment of the feast allowed Alphinaud some moments of excited planning. How could Coerthas be reintroduced to the Alliance? The Crystal Braves already had served there, so they may be a serviceable link to the ideal of Grand Companies. If his Braves could aid more in the war with the Dravinians, then there would be no issue at all in ensuring that Ishgard could take further steps to melt their frozen walls and open up their hearts and minds. The reestablishment of trade and tourism would further cement matters in, and Alphinaud felt his heart swell with confidence when Aymeric raised his glass and announced that before the audience of all relevant parties. 

The smaller spats and territorial disputes could iron themselves out in time. Naturally, they would persist but the interference of Mor Dohna-centered institutions like the Crystal Braves could easily solve these disputes independent of the Scions. In fact, if Alphinaud would have it his way, he would have Mor Dohna as the centre of higher governance in general.

Mentioning such ambitions were on the tip of his tongue, but he refrained as Raubhan spoke with him and plainly  _ lied _ about the level of the Flames’ involvement.

Typical. Better to hold his tongue now then. He’d talk with Raubhan privately later about weeding out the remaining problems in Ul’Dah. 

But, ah. He had been so wrapped up in his own head that he failed to notice the look of concern next to him. The Warrior of Light standing to his right, tall by comparison and giving him a concerned look and a shoulder touch as he was no longer conversing and was instead, mumbling to himself to an audience of artisan cheeses. Embarrassing. Humiliating. 

He shook his head. “I am absolutely fine. I was just... thinking about the steps to take after this banquet.”

“Now is a time for celebration?”

“It’s also a time for change.” They gave him a look and he felt the need to elaborate. “Of course… there was no way I could have done this without you.” And the dreaded blush coloured his cheeks again and made him feel like he had no control over his own feelings and he needed to steal his glance away, resting his eyes on Ul art. 

The two of them were woefully hopeless, it seemed. All he had to do was clear his throat and direct his attention to the nearest Brave private, the distinct blue colour serving as an easy identifier away from any more elaborate discussion. He seemed to recollect that this man, a Hyur, was of the third division. 

“There are no signs of immediate threat, are there?” A time-wasting question. No one would dare to infiltrate Ul’Dah while it was so heavily armed. Even the Ascians would have the sense to stay away lest they earn the ire of the entirety of Eorzea at once. 

“Nothing to report, Commander Leveilleur! However, I do need to speak with you in private. There’s a most pressing matter that Yuyuhase has found that may very well threaten the gaiety of the banquet itself.” 

His eyes grew wide. Of course, any possibility of a threat required a swift and thorough investigation. Since he did, in fact, serve as their commander proper, anything that would interrupt proceedings going as normal was paramount to him. 

He followed this Hyur man, soon joined by another member of the third division, making sure to wave to Minfillia on his way out and down the hall. “I’ll be back in but a moment!” A ruse of joy lasting only a second before his focus was back on the men in front of and behind him. Minfilia hardly seemed overjoyed, but he was not the best actor either.

He could understand.

Still, as the chatter of the feast faded into the background, he couldn’t help but notice as they went deep into the bowels of the palace that they were far away from any of the significant events. This clearly must be something that required the most privacy, and with that, his concern started to grow. He willed it away in order to operate and kept his head high, fully aware of the possibility of Imperial aggression.

Their footsteps were hushed by the carpet, the vast expanse of halls and doors merging into one until this particular Hyur found the room he was looking for.

“In here, Commander.”

Filled with pride, he entered the room at the behest of his Braves, proud of their discretion. 

“Hello, Commander.” Yuyuhase addressed him with the entirety of the third division behind him, relief washing over his shoulders far too quickly that the cold blade pressed against his neck gave him whiplash. His joy turned sour as his stomach tied itself in knots and he found himself holding his breath… closing his eyes as though the entire world around him was all but an illusion until he opened them again and saw the third division smirking at him, Yuyuhase crossing his arms across his chest. 

There were so many words on the tip of his tongue… accusations, accounts of treason, desperately wishing to find those who were immediately responsible and to scream with the hope that someone would  _ save him _ and that  _ everyone could leave safely. _

His words caught in his throat though and the knife dug into his flesh as he slowly raised his hands in surrender.

“You’re under arrest, Alphinaud Leveilleur, for conspiring to assassinate the sultana and for  _ treason  _ against the Eorzean Alliance by allying with the Holy See of Ishgard.”

The panic within him ran cold as he felt fear take over every ounce of him. His voice broke, cracking and shifting between octaves and represented everything he was so desperately trying to stand up against. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” He wanted to sound like the commander he was: domineering, in control. But right now, he felt like a mouse that had taken too large of a risk in his daily spoils, reaching for more when he was well aware the sword could come at any time. 

Instead of getting a response, the Roegadyn that had taken his position behind him tripped him up, using his weight to get him to fall to his knees. Yuyuhase made up for this change in height by stepping forward and grabbing his chin, holding it in place so they were forced to make eye contact.

“We can save you from a death sentence, you know. We’ll even give you freedom if you’re able to follow directions.”

He still had enough energy to glare at the Lalafell, putting all of his hatred and betrayal into a stare so that Yuyuhase would know how much he wanted to destroy him with his magical prowess. 

“How so? How much money do you want?!”

“We’re getting paid plenty, I can assure you. Though I won’t mind another bribe.” Disgusting. He felt his entire body tense as he started to search what information he knew for this betrayal. Where had he gone wrong? What loopholes were exploited? “There’s a different trade we need though.”

The Hyur who had taken him aside stepped forward, bending down to eye him up in a way that made disgust pool in Alphinaud’s gut. “You have a face so pretty, it should be illegal. You know that, Commander Levellieur? Or, I guess you don’t have that title anymore. It suits you better. You’d be a far better concubine than a political leader.”

Panic took over as he realised this Hyur’s intentions and of the supposed worth he had to these individuals. Had they thought nothing of his abilities? Was his appearance, so similar to his sister’s, the only thing of merit? There’s hunger in the voices of at least two of the third division… something akin to objectification as he realizes that his value isn’t because of his smarts or hard work in this situation. Gritting his teeth, he glares as best as he can and tries to keep his head high despite the situation. He would get through this and, hopefully, with his dignity intact. As the son of Louisoix, it was what was expected of him. It was how he could live up to his grandfather’s legacy as a proper Elezen  _ man.  _ Not at all like how we was being treated here.

“It’s satisfy us or execution.” He tried to shoot his glare behind him, but he couldn’t turn his neck that far to see the Roegadyn who so degraded him and his authority: his hard work. “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement if ever I were to know one. If you cry out and act like a good girl, I’ll even let your friends go.”

“Do not call me that. I am a man and will be respected as such.” His teeth grit, he still felt the tears prick at the corners of his eyes as defiance overtook him and he stepped on his aggressor’s foot even if his life was threatened. He was answered only with being pushed to the floor and his cheek scraping against a sharp spot of the stone beneath him… this room hardly given the extravagance of the public facing exteriors of the palace. “Stop joking. This is ridiculous.” His voice was still already hoarse from being pressed into the floor, anger fueling him, but there was no way he could take on his Braves… the traitors… alone.

“Well, maybe you should stop being such a prude. It’s not cute and doesn’t suit your image.” Did the Hyur have the right to say such things? Tears of frustration rolled down his cheeks as he found himself more frustrated than scared now.

“You said you were going to help defend Eorzea! Can you not see how this is not only a violation against Eorzea, but your nations as a whole!? What is with you!?”

The Roegadyn man spoke next. “Coin speaks louder than anything else, boy. We’re all here for our own needs. You’re just the same, aren’t ya? You just are acting self-righteous about it.”

The blade was pressed to his neck yet again, giving him a clear option as it cut the first layer of skin and pearls of blood shone against the sharp edge. He would rather face the gods before he would die like a dog. He hardly knew if the execution would be a botched one now or a more organized one later, but that was a gamble he didn’t want to take. If the Warrior of Light and the Scions were on the line too, it was even more dire despite the fact that he clearly couldn’t trust The Third to their world. 

“Do ya wanna meet death now? Or would you like to bend over like a good boy?”

The words bounced around his head in their mocking tone and the losses of his short sightedness gutted him… leaving him with only the panic of the situation and a surprising numbness that took over as his mind left the situation entirely. Gritting his teeth, he intended to negotiate further while his mind was gone and in this dreamlike trance. Instead, a cloth gag was shoved in before he could get a word in and he coughed around it as it was pushed to the back of his throat.

Hunching over, it was Yuyuhase who first spoke again. “So, trial it is for you. And for everyone? You’re going to let everyone take the bullet like that?” He expected a kick… some kind of physical aggression but was only surprised when it never came. “You know the sultana is dead. No one in Ul’Dah will come to aid you now.”

All Alphinaud could do was shake his head, his mind racing as he tried to think of the best way out of this situation. Something that would save his dignity and his friends. The Hyur in front of him mussed his hair in a way that was far too tender… far too intimate and it upset him far more than anything else. 

“Good boy.” He tensed, averting his gaze before he was shoved back down, his bodysuit not saving him as his knees hit the floor hard. Yuyuhase had walked behind him then, hands on his hips as he double-checked the lock on the door. Looking around him, he only saw the faces of his attackers and those who betrayed him, looking down at him with an array of expressions: hunger, malice, pity…

It was the looks of pity that hurt him the most. Having to admit he was defenseless and the victim in this situation ate at him. He couldn’t logic his way out and felt disgusted that he was now stuck at a dead end. The Roegadyn removed the knife and he was finally able to exhale, only to draw a sharp breath once again as he felt the man reach around to all but tear his jacket off. His arms raised as he desperately tried to keep them down and wrap himself up in  _ something  _ but the jacket was taken off and tossed carelessly to the side _.  _

The Hyur wasted no time at all to lean back down and push his cheeks together, squeezing them as he raised Alphinaud’s chin. 

“You’re one of the prettiest boys I’ve ever seen. I’m going to remember this for the rest of my life. If you bite, I’ll take that as choosing death.” This Hyur was so close and as he tried to pull away, his lips were slammed against his own. Despite the warning, the so-called “kiss” was all teeth. He could taste the iron in his mouth as this awful man bit it. The Brave behind him lifted his hands to remove his glove, swearing at how his bodysuit was “fuckin’ difficult.” His ass was harshly grabbed, his zipper found and he felt as cold air hit his skin. He didn’t want to cry. He wanted to be strong through this, but he felt the tears once again as his mind left the scene entirely. He no longer found a reason to make a plan and his mind felt devoid of thought and numb as he felt a large, violating finger slide down his spine, his legs spread wider as the Roegaydn laughed.

“Not such a boy, after all! You’re more like a doll than expected! Good, good.” He slammed his legs back together, but they were pushed back apart as he felt the Hyur remove his hair from his braid. 

“Damn, your voice really did hide a lot of secrets.” Leaning over, he expressed, “Y’know, it’d be nice for this to be a regular thing. I could even help you regain control over the Braves. With my help, you’d never have to want for anything again. I just want you to be ready to be fucked at any point, your ass always out so I can take you from behind.”

Illness claimed him and he winced as a finger found his hole and plunged it inside with no care for preparation and equally no care for how it would hurt. He was panicking for the fact that he was wet at all, but he realized with horror that the smell of blood had returned. A drink was harshly shoved to his lips and he tasted something bitter on the wine that ran down his throat, inevitably choking on some as it ran down his chin.

He came face-to-face with the Hyur’s dick and somewhere, in the deep recesses of his mind, processed it passing his lips as he was split open from behind as well. He didn’t process the pain as he slipped into a dizzied state and simply did as he was told until the world started spinning and eventually turned black. 

\---

Alphinaud’s head was pounding, the room was spinning but there wasn’t a soul in sight. Had he simply had a bad dream? He had no awareness of the day or the time, the room he was in only illuminated by torchlight. He realized with terror that he was cold, his naked body pressed against the cold floor. Figuring he should do something, he tentatively attempted to sit up and immediately regretted the decision as his head screamed at him and nausea took over. He felt sticky, and, when he picked at his skin, dried remains clung underneath his nails and his mind blanked out, the room transforming before him.

In but another moment, he felt that he was wrapped in a blanket, a warm fire keeping him from truly being cold and he heard his sister scolding him in the distance. He let his eyes fall closed again, the only thing bringing him back being how his stomach turned. He could only press his hands against sandstone walls as he emptied the remnants of his stomach: mostly bile considering how little he allowed himself to eat. 

His head still pounded, unable to process much of anything. Instead, as bile gathered once again in his mouth, he took the time to gather his minimal belongings… his clothing left behind in a crumpled heap, it was forgotten, but far cleaner than he was. Wordlessly, he went through the motions of dressing himself, taking the time to smooth out whatever creases he could and, using the wall to support himself, dragged himself to the now unlocked door.

His mind felt as though it were stuffed full of cotton as he barely registered the distinct architecture of the Ul family. The halls were strangely quiet, his footsteps being the only thing that filled the silence. It made the whole situation feel like a dream. The only thing that grounded him to reality was how his entire body remained sore, his stomach unsettled. 

Still, despite it all, he managed to leave Hustings Strip without any confrontation. There were hardly signs of any force: either Brass Blade or Crystal Brave. The Scions were largely absent as well. Despite this, no alarms went off as he wandered all the way to the Easternmost gate outside the city, only then catching some cursed glares from Brass Blade members, further adding to the sinking feeling within his gut.

“.... lo?”

Was he hearing things? It was hard to tell in this floating world. A small hand waved in front of him, directing his attention downwards. Another force stepped forward, arm reaching for the blade beside him as he approached them.

“How’d you manage to get out?!” 

Alphinaud shook his head. “Get out of--- Ah, no. I hardly did a thing. Where is this?”

He saw a man fall before him, his screams ringing in his ears as a blade withdrew from his stomach, eyes looking up at him as his hand was grabbed and he was pulled, fervently, forward out across the steps to the desert. The moonlight reflected off the cacti as he finally got a chance to size up his companion. 

He looked familiar, but how could it be? 

“We need to leave, Alphinaud Leveilleur.” His body was settled on an outcropping of rock, away from the gaze of the entrance into the city. Still feeling weak and dizzy, this figure pushed something to his lips and he could find nothing to do but swallow, finding strength once again after a while as his head cleared. “What.. this is Thanalan?”

The figure, a Lalafell, nodded before him, checking on his vitals and assuring that, physically at least, he wasn’t terribly hurt. Still, the pain in his lower abdomen served as a different reminder, but one that he wasn’t particularly keen to address. Instead, he winced as he ignored it, thankful for the support, but not wanting to openly admit confusion in case that weakness provided greater hostility. 

“Yes. I don’t know how you managed to wander out in clear sight considering the state of the palace, but I am thrilled that I was able to, at least, find someone.”

“And you are-”

“Pipin Tarupin. I’ve just returned from Ala Mhigo, but the sight of what I returned to is…”

At that thought, Pipin pushed his head down ensuring he wouldn’t stick out too obviously and relaxed when the caravan seemed to be trade-focused, blissfully unaware of the chaos that just happened at the core of Ul’dah. Alphinaud was still mentally catching up, steadying himself as he found his headache easing with time and the world proceeded to stop spinning. Strangely, he still felt his hands blur before him as if out of a dream, and the pain in his gut had him doubling over again.

“Are you hurt?”

“Not… terribly,” gritting his teeth as he tried to recollect events, his mind shut off and he offered a smile instead, “On the contrary, I am embarrassed to say that it is just my stomach.”

“If you’re well enough to go on, I think it’s best we try to find anyone else who managed to escape.”

Alphinaud nodded, the evening coming back into focus and urgency reinstating itself as he healed himself to the best of his ability, the adrenaline helping him push past any larger betrayals and outright disgraces. Settled out under an outcropping of rock, it was like clockwork when a familiar face emerged from where Pipin directed him to go. Relief washed over Alphinaud, as he fought his instincts to run to the Warrior of Light and to grip them in some fashion resembling fondness. 

“It’s such a relief to see you,” arms stretched out, and then immediately returned to his sides, brushing at a bruise covered by his bodysuit and holding back the wince. “And the others..?”

The Warrior of Light shook their head and Alphinaud just had to curse under his breath. 

“We can regroup later. Right now, we need to put some distance between ourselves and Ul’Dah.” Pipin spoke with authority: a role Alphinaud would usually hold. 

“There’s only so much we can do on foot.”

And again, as if on cue, like the Warrior of Light was his only luck charm, the caravan from before pulled up to them, the chocobos shaking their heads as it halted. A hand waved at him and he had never felt so relieved to see a familiar face of that sort. 

“Yer sister sent for me. Said somethin’ about her brother needin’ help.” Getting some assistance as he stumbled into the cart, despite wanting comfort, he sat at the furthest edge, his head down. 

“She sent for me… I was trying to protect her, but she…” He clenched his hands, curling them and tensing to will himself not to give away too much. “This was… a mistake. A consequence of pride. I thought myself Eorzea’s savior, yet it was I who needed saving.”

His body fought him like the many snowstorms endured in the Coerthas Highlands and he found himself discreetly trying to physick the remainder of his wounds away, feeling, at the very least, his more visible bruises melt into his pale skin. Despite the soothing nature of it, the pain nestled deep within his gut remained strong, confirming that he was clearly the delusional one and that this pain was all in his head. 

The Warrior of Light continued to give him concerned glances and he dropped his hand. “You are not… hurt, are you?” They shook their head. “Just… let me know then…”

The journey remained eerily quiet. Pipin left them to take care of the city, and the caravan headed northwards, past the near abandoned territory from the northernmost reaches of Thanalan and past imperial territory, slowly being reconstructed but without the effective forces or magitek that previously made the area almost untraversable. 

He threw his hood over his head, once again forcing back any semblance of upset or tears as Mor Dohna came over the horizons. He had to avert his gaze as they past the new location for the Scions. No one involved could have made it up there that quickly, but he couldn’t help but feel that the remaining forces and adventurers alike had their eyes fixed on him… judging him and reminding him of his failures and how he had failed to accomplish anything of worth at the end of the day. So it seemed, his sister obsessed with focusing on the downfall of their grandfather was the one who had a clearer head and conscience alike.

…

It was only when they had received asylum that his emptiness spilled over. He couldn’t bring himself to eat, slouched in the chair and, no longer able to hold back his emotions, a few tears had fallen from his face. Tataru had rendezvoused with them, and it was her reaching out and asking if he was okay that finally broke him. 

“It’s… all my fault. How can I continue on when I have been so blind?”

“Alphinaud, that is not true…” Tataru rested her tiny hand on his shoulder, but relinquished it immediately as he tensed. 

It was true, and he knew that wholeheartedly, but the reminders that there were more pressing problems meant that he could hardly dwell on himself. The pain within him ebbed and flowed, but he buried it down and shook his head, forcing a smile and using every bit of deception he could manage. 

“We do need to progress.” Every ounce of etiquette emerged like bile in his throat. “Thank you, Lord Haurchefant, for your help in our time of need and for helping us gain entrance into Ishgard.” Though his face was red, he flashed smiles to all of his companions, pushing himself up. “I hardly have time to sit and sulk, for we have much to do.” 

And ‘doing’ was the most important thing at the moment. This recent event was but another ghost in his past that really could not leak out. They were his own shortcomings and he simply had deserved a punishment for his hubris. In fact, he could hardly blame the Braves for what they had done to him. A suitable slap on the wrist for his failures. Most wouldn’t survive a mistake like that. If he were a religious man, he would think that the Twelve would have blessed him with a second chance personally. Honestly, it was that dangerous thinking and knowing full well that that desperation and hopelessness was what turned Beast Tribes to false gods. 

It was strange how having to experience being robbed of his dignity himself was what made him start to form shreds of sympathy for those who were tempered. If anything, he was fighting being tempered himself. Not necessarily to a primal, but to the way his own fear and hurt manifested within him like a tempest he was trying to choke down like bitter medicine. 

Pushing himself up snapped him out of his thoughts, which were dangerous at this point. No, instead of being a man of thoughts and words now, he needed to be a man of action. It was with that that he left the estate at Dragonhead with Tataru in tow, given a proper coat this time. 

In front of them stood Ishgard, its icy gates now opening as the unforgiving stone became their new environment. Once again an outsider, Alphinaud could at least keep a brave face in a new environment. This was a new start and not even the glares from the low-born residents could deter him. Moving forward, one step at a time, was the only way to progress from here. And he would keep working himself towards saving the Scions and reassessing his actions. There was no rest for the wicked, and no rest for those whose minds were left to wander far too much to the point where they themselves must turn to something bigger to reap divine vengeance on what they endured.

He was hardly one to forgive those responsible for the acts against him and his body, but thinking it as due punishment kept him lowly… beneath any ideas of greater actualization as the warmth granted to him in Fortemps Manor felt foreign to him compared to the cold.

When did that change? 


End file.
